


Wake Me

by 2000regrets



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Songfic, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5755840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2000regrets/pseuds/2000regrets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie Dalton didn't expect to find love, let alone under these circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Dead Poets Society fic, so it's not that great. It's really cheesy and bad because I'm a romantic nerd. If there's any errors just let me know! Feedback is, of course, appreciated greatly. Thank you!

Right from the start, Charlie knew. It was a cold night, and the warm glow of the open sign at a small coffee shop had been calling to him. He was in his usual situation. His parents were fighting, and he couldn't stand being boxed up in his room, the walls paper thin, so he took off. And, yet again, he had forgotten to grab his wallet. He might have had a couple of dollars, but not enough to have him welcome there all night. He briefly considered his options. The shop seemed quite vacant, and it was late at night, so maybe they wouldn't mind him loitering around? He decided to give himself the benefit of doubt, and go for it, as snowflakes were starting to fall from the sky. 

A bell went off as he walked in, and Charlie cringed, because he, of course, woke up the sleeping barista. However, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the boy he had disturbed, because holy fuck. His entire body burst into flames. So, this is what it feels like to feel anything at all, Charlie thought to himself. He was so used to being numb, and this was so foreign, so raw, so real. 

The boy sitting behind the counter was a masterpiece. He made Charlie believe in God, because nothing else could create something so beautiful. He was speechless, because this person with messy ginger hair, glasses that he kept pushing up, and freckles splattered all over his skin was right in front of him and he had never seen anyone so perfect in his life. 

The boy cocked his head at him, obviously confused about his lack of words. "Can I help you?" He asked. And, shit, his voice was perfect too. Charlie could hear him saying I love you already. 

"Uh, yeah, I'll have a coffee. Black," Charlie mumbled, regaining his composure. He put on his usual look, slightly amused, slightly seductive. It seemed to have little to no success, as the boy gave him a quizzical look, and proceeded to make his order. Charlie waited, absentmindedly humming a tune, trying not to stare at the mystery boy's back. He was shorter than Charlie, and he could already imagine kissing the top of his head while they were in each other's arms. He kept on playing with the sleeves of his dark green sweater, and Charlie spotted his bitten down nails. The only thought that went through Charlie's head was how perfect he was. 

"That'll be $2.85." Charlie broke out of his trance, fishing out three dollars from his pocket.

"Here, keep the change." He grabbed his coffee, and began to walk over to a window seat, but something stopped him. It was the look in the boy's eyes. They screamed sad, and Charlie hated it with every fiber of his being. 

"Sorry, I know this is a bit forward, but would you like to have coffee with me?" The words were tumbling out of Charlie's mouth before he could realize it. 

The boy hesitated, glancing around the empty room, "Well, technically, I'm still working..." 

"Does it look like anyone else is going to come in?" Charlie quipped, a smirk gracing his lips. This had to work. He had forgotten what life was like without this boy, forgotten what his body felt like when it was not on fire. 

"Well, you're lucky that you're so charming," the boy responded, making his way out from behind the counter. They sat down, and Charlie saw a flash of something else, adventure. It was good to know he was not all sadness. 

"Do you, uh, do you want something to drink?" Charlie asked, mentally face palming. He's the fucking barista, you idiot! 

"Oh! I forgot my tea," the boy ran behind the counter and grabbed a mug. When he sat back down, Charlie smiled. 

"My names Charlie. Charlie Dalton." He reached out his hand, and the boy grabbed it.

"Steven Meeks." He shook Charlie's hand, and it was a double victory. His palm was so soft and warm, and he finally has a name to the person he had encountered. Steven. It suited him. Charlie let go, a moment too late. He tried not to get his hopes up over Steven's blush. 

"So what brings you here at two in the morning?" 

"Well, why are you working the graveyard shift?" 

"Fair question," he smiled, and Charlie spotted happiness flicker into his face, "I'm trying to save up for college, and it's winter break. Your turn." He took a sip of his tea. 

"Uh.. My parents were fighting. And I couldn't stand it. It's good that I have a tree right outside of my room." He couldn't believe it. He was being so honest, for the first time in a while. No flirty, funny facade. He was being Charlie, for once. And it felt right. It felt good to share his sadness with this stranger. 

Steven took another drink from his tea before speaking. "My parents are divorced, I get it. So, how old are you?" 

"Eighteen. My birthday was last week." 

"I'm seventeen, eighteen soon. Happy birthday. Did you get what you wished for?" He said this with a lopsided grin, and with that, Charlie knew that he was done for. 

"I... I think I did," He replied, with a blush. A blush. He was Charlie Dalton, the ultimate heartbreaker. He wasn't supposed to blush, and yet, there he was, with rosy red cheeks, sitting across from a boy who he felt a strange fondness for. 

"Oh really?" Steven was full on grinning now, and it was even more lopsided, and Charlie had to stop himself from kissing him right then and there. 

They talked till the sun rose. They shared their secrets, fears, and passions. Charlie felt drunk. His heart was swelling and his doors were opened and he felt like he had finally come home. 

"I- I have to go. Charlie, I can't tell you how much tonight has meant to me." Steven said sleepily. He typed his number into Charlie's phone. Charlie's stomach was tied in knots. It was now or never. Standing to face Steven, Charlie was surprised to find more details of his face to study. He noticed that Meeks had gone quiet. Putting the phone down, he looked up at Charlie. Charlie didn't know if it was the coffee high or his racing heart that made him speak. 

"Listen... Steven, I really like you. And I don't even know if you're into me, or guys at all, but fuck, the moment I saw you, I knew you were so fucking special and I want to be there for you. And, shit, it's okay if you say no, but I just really needed-" 

Steven went up on his tiptoes and pressed his lips to Charlie's, wrapping his arms around the taller boy's neck. Charlie brought his hand to Steven's jawline, trailing it down, exploring his body. He couldn't believe that this was happening. He was kissing Steven Meeks, a guy he'd only known for a couple of hours. A guy that he was pretty sure he was falling in love with. When they parted, Charlie got blessed with Steven's smile yet again. 

"I think I might be falling in love with you, Charlie. Is that weird?" He mumbled, resting his forehead on Charlie's chest. Charlie kissed the top of his head, pulling his arms around Steven. 

"Well, I know I'm falling in love with you, so you're definitely not the weird one." 

When Charlie biked home in the snow, the fire had not gone out. It never would.


End file.
